


Soft

by Hoodoo



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Champagne, F/M, Fine Dining, Fluff, It Goes Awry, Plans, Short & Sweet, Soft Miami, Theater - Freeform, evening out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-24
Updated: 2019-01-24
Packaged: 2019-10-15 12:39:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17528897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hoodoo/pseuds/Hoodoo
Summary: Miami plans an evening out. It gets derailed. Based on a request for a "softer Miami".





	Soft

Miami wouldn’t call himself a control freak, per se, but compared to the Ricks who were willing to fly by the seats of their pants and just improvise their way through life, he enjoyed a bit more planning and attention to detail.

Tonight, for example, was to be classy. A nice dinner at the restaurant that looked over the city (the one where prices weren’t listed in the menu); digestifs and continued good conversation (she was interesting to talk to, not like some women without two brain cells to rub together); then off to the opera with her on his arm (looking stunning and making other men jealous); then back to his penthouse, where he wouldn’t be against having sex on the balcony (with the city lights as a back drop).

He’d used a bribe to secure the reservation at the restaurant. He paid handsomely for box seats at the theater. His jeweler had procured a small selection of Art Deco earrings; Miami hemmed and hawed between simple drop earrings with diamonds and Egyptian revival earrings that had scarabs carved from labradorite. 

In the end he chose both. One as a gift for tonight; the other for another time. His jeweler put each set in velvet boxes for him.

Without the need to request it, his favorite suit was pressed and laid out for him. His shoes were shined expertly as well. Miami knew that even after he’d left, his manservant would freshen the flowers throughout the penthouse, make sure there was plenty of champagne chilling, and go through the place with a fine-toothed comb to verify it was picture perfect. 

Everything was ready. Dressed, cologned, tickets in his inner pocket and hinged box with the scarab earrings in another, Miami felt able to take a sigh of relief.

And then–-

–-she forgot.

Sometimes her work was crazy-busy. It must have been one of those days that just exploded, because his texts of, “Where are you?” and “Are you home yet?” went unanswered. Miami sat and stewed and barely restrained himself from blowing up her phone with more and more messages. 

Six o’clock–the time of their dinner reservation–came and went. There was still the possibility of making it to the theater at eight. That hope shrunk smaller and smaller as the minutes ticked by. When his phone finally, finally buzzed with a return message from her, however, it was twenty minutes before the curtain rose. 

“I’m home!” she’d texted.

“Date night, remember?” he’d sent back, and almost immediately after hitting send his phone rang.

He didn’t even have a chance to say hello. She instantly filled his ear with teary apologies. She was so sorry, she had forgotten because of work and she knew he’d planned a whole night and–

Miami interrupted her by telling her he was going to be at her place in less than thirty minutes.

That was met with protests that she wasn’t going to be good company tonight, she ruined everything for him, she needed a shower, she was tired–-

Miami repeated that he’d be there in thirty minutes, and she needed to get ready.

Then he ended the call. He hoped she heard the smile on his face.

Thirty minutes later, on the dot–-again, not a control freak, just punctual–-Miami rang the bell at her front door. She opened it, still wrapped in a towel from her shower and looking frazzled. She still apologized a mile a minute for ruining the evening, that he looked so good and put together and she looked like a sack of potatoes, and there was no way she was going to be able to get ready and look good enough for him–-

Miami shushed her. He told her to dry her hair and put it up. Put on her make up. Relax.

While she rushed to the bathroom to do as he said, he went through her closet and found a suitable dress. Nothing glitzy, as he envisioned originally, but something more fun with a shorter skirt. He located heeled shoes to match and stood with everything outside her bathroom while she finished putting herself together. 

So their witty and delightful banter? It started while she was applying mascara and he was holding her shoes by their straps. Their nice dinner in an intimate booth, waited on by a fleet of servers? It ended up being supermarket sushi, shared on the hood of his Bentley. He did snag a bottle of champagne, but it was mostly warm, and they drank it from the bottle. The opera? There was a free concert in the park, where a band of young people played enthusiastically, if not one hundred percent professionally.

She accidentally got wasabi on her skirt. He managed to dribble champagne down his front. By that point, neither cared, and both laughed it off. Driving home, even though he told her he needed his hand to shift, she insisted on holding it. 

He couldn’t help but smile at how widely she grinned.

At his penthouse, they retired to his balcony, as he’d anticipated. He offered another drink, with a glass, this time! She accepted with a laugh. He popped the cork on a new bottle, poured her a flute that was almost overflowing, and handed it over. She gulped it to prevent it from spilling on her, a little tipsy, laughing the whole time.

Later, he presented her the earrings. She gasped and exclaimed over them. It wasn’t in public, as he’d had imagined, with an audience of men jealous they weren’t him, and women jealous they weren’t her. But that was okay; her delight was enough. 

Under the night sky brightened by light pollution from the city, they sat close together and held hands. Their conversation remained lively until, well past midnight, it waned into comfortable silence. 

They didn’t have sex, like he’d planned. It’d been a long day for her, and an evening out didn’t make her less tired. Miami took her inside. He undressed her carefully and slipped her into satin and lace déshabillé. He directed her to the en suite to clean up, and she returned with her hair loose and fresh-faced. 

Miami, dressed for bed himself, turned down the bed and helped her in. She snuggled against him, thanking him for a nice evening as he extinguished the lights. In the dark, he nodded, which she felt. She told him she’d make it up to him, having completely derailed his plans. He replied mock-seriously that he expected her too, to which she giggled and bit playfully at his chest. Cautioning her not to start something she wasn’t prepared to finish only made her nip him again, but before it went too far she settled down.

Pleasantly warm and slightly dizzy from the alcohol, she sighed and drifted to sleep. Her breathing slowed and became even, and Miami went to sleep to its cadence. 

_fin._


End file.
